Heh. I couldn't disappoint Bev! Plus, it was nice to do a little cheerier drabble than what's been coming out of my pen up to now.
Tact is just not saying true stuff. I'll pass.
Cordelia ,'Dirty Girls'
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
SailAweigh - Mar 05, 2008 5:39:23 pm PST #9842 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
Ginger - Mar 05, 2008 5:45:54 pm PST #9843 of 10001
"It didn't taste good. It tasted soooo horrible. It tasted like....a vodka martini." - Matilda
Automated Drabble
It was a
☐dark ☐wet ☐clear and
☐stormy ☐blue ☐shiny
☐night ☐sea ☐limo.
The ☐boy ☐model ☐dog
☐sat ☐idled ☐ ☐lay
on the ☐rocky ☐dangerous ☐empty
☐street ☐beach ☐runway.
There was the sound of far away ☐sirens ☐thunder ☐applause
and muffled ☐engines ☐screams ☐shots.
A man walking by threw a
☐sno-cone ☐gun ☐rose
☐into the water ☐at a girl ☐into the trash.
His shoes were caked with
☐dough ☐blood ☐tomato sauce
and he was singing
☐ Hallelujah ☐ show tunes ☐"Meet the Swinger. Polaroid Swinger."
The man
☐screamed ☐fainted ☐laughed
when he saw the ☐cookie jar ☐ pizza ☐body
lying in front of him.
The ☐boy ☐model ☐dog
ran to him and ☐licked ☐kicked ☐kissed him.
The sound of ☐sirens ☐thunder ☐applause
grew louder as they both ☐howled ☐ran ☐ate.
amych - Mar 05, 2008 5:54:39 pm PST #9844 of 10001
Now let us crush something soft and watch it fountain blood. That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?
The sound of ☐applause
SailAweigh - Mar 05, 2008 5:56:18 pm PST #9845 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
Hee.
-t - Mar 06, 2008 6:23:01 am PST #9846 of 10001
I am a woman of various inclinations and only some of the time are they to burn everything down in frustration
Clever!
Lee - Mar 09, 2008 1:43:47 pm PDT #9847 of 10001
The feeling you get when your brain finally lets your heart get in its pants.
The animated or automated challenge is now closed.
This week's challenge is opening the box .
Beverly - Mar 09, 2008 10:36:15 pm PDT #9848 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
You've always taken as much care with the wrapping as with the contents: a pastry brush and wooden spoon crossed in the bow of an apron wrapped around the box containing a pretty ceramic pie plate. A pretty pebble twisted in tissue-foil, tied with tinsel, a tiny bottle full of sand with an hourglass drawn and "extra time" hand-lettered on the label, and a list of "things to do with your extra time" on parchment, rolled and tied, all tucked into a small white bag watercolored with sunset, or forest, or ocean.
Your mom always handed you a wrinkled brown paper bag, the top rolled over and crimped shut. Happy Birthday, she'd say. Merry Christmas.
SailAweigh - Mar 10, 2008 2:54:10 am PDT #9849 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
Ouch and a half, Bev.
Anne W. - Mar 10, 2008 2:59:27 am PDT #9850 of 10001
The lost sheep grow teeth, forsake their lambs, and lie with the lions.
That's lovely, but painful. Nice work.
Laura - Mar 10, 2008 5:44:27 am PDT #9851 of 10001
Our wings are not tired.
The call came once a month with a gentle reminder to please come pick up the box. It was claimed and then sat on the closet shelf. Out of sight. I don’t remember when it was moved to the shed. It may have been moved for safe keeping, out of reach from toddler’s hands. Ten years had gone by before I knew what had to be done. The box descended slowly beneath the water lilies. I had thought ashes were supposed to fly away on the wind. I know he understands why I never was able to open the box.